Wonderwall
by Starscream's Mishap
Summary: Stuck in a horrible place but ready to scrape her way out, Lyra decides to take care of business.
1. Chapter 1

This shouldn't be that difficult. Intake, exhaust, lift the hand and knock the secret pattern.

Knock knock knock

knock-knock

The monitor blazed to life and the countenance she faced did not appear any less incendiary.

"WHAT?" he snarled, optics brightening and lowering in a flash.

Just say it. "Arkvander sent me."

"FRAGGIT! That heap of slag!" More optic flashing, to the point where Lyra wondered if he were short-circuiting. It wouldn't be much of a surprise.

Difficult is the flashback of a similar situation, where she was completely replete and hemorrhaging, her brother a very pale shade of gray. She had to rise above this, though, or all of what she'd done for this information would be for naught.

"He-"

"Forget it, honey, we're not in the market for any more 'rental equipment.' Have a nice day." *Blip*

Da FRAG? She banged on the door again, her own temperature rising. She was ignored.

"I'm NOT a prostitute!" she yelled, at nothing that would believe her. The door remained obdurately taciturn. "I need to find Starscream and you're the only ones who know anything!"

The monitor was quiet. The door was not. It banged, it rattled, it creaked open. A lone dark green hand motioned her inside.

"Don't touch anything, don't talk to anyone, follow me," it commanded. As she squeezed herself in, the hand remained in front of her. "Weapons."

She glanced at him. Dark green replacement parts, yellow, brownish black accents; insect-like, which explained the usage of that particular casual nickname towards her. "No."

"Don't lie to me, honey, we all know you have 'em-"

"I said NO, as in 'no way in Cybertron am I giving you anything of mine you can use against me later,' asshole!" Earth curses were sometimes the best means of exhibiting your frustration without truly insulting individuals in which you still had to trust...barely trust.

He laughed. "You want to get any further, you comply."

"If I take a weapon out I'm using it, and as you've already figured, I'm built for speed and hiding, so if I shoot you, that'll be the end of it. So 'no.' That's all you get. You can throw me out, but it'll be hard to do if I find a way past you."

He huffed and it sounded like a deep buzz. "Mercuria, get your aft down here and EXPLAIN some things to this glitch. I'm done with her."

Mercuria? Really? A familiar face! Lyra burst into a relieved smile. PLEASE let it be her!

It was indeed, her brother's former flame! But...wow. The gorgeous silver had been tarnished, to keep her from being spotted. Battle damage dotted her and made what used to be stunning now seem sad. Her permanently affixed frown did not waver, either. "YOU?! What are you doing here?"

Another inhalation. She could do this! "You know where Starscream is. I'm here to find him."

She hadn't expected laughter. It kept going, like a wave of sound reverberating in an echo chamber, over and over again, never ceasing.

"How exactly is that so hilarious?" she demanded, more glad than ever that she hadn't relinquished her weapons.

"Starscream is dead!"

 _It wasn't an ancient name, but it sounded that way all the same: Aernaroth._

 _"What does it mean?" she asked, watching him as he carefully reloaded the blasters into their holsters._

 _"It means mind your own business," he snapped, closing the holster box lid and turning back to the rest of the empty firearms. "Don't you have a hallway or twelve or score to patrol?"_

 _These Cybertron refugees that were aiding in the construction of Moon One were a surly lot. Had she been this way?_

 _"Time off for good behavior," she replied, sliding off of the large container she'd been perched open while observing. "Do you need help with those Deceptitraans?"_

 _"No. Your hovering is really annoying."_

 _Well, oops. The Autobots on Earth had been friendly to her -once they stopped hating her. Not this guy. Some situations can't be replicated, she supposed. Especially with a Seaspray look-alike that seemed bitter he wasn't on the water._

 _"Guess you don't want to be friends," she commented._

 _"I do not. Have a nice day." With that, he turned back to his soldering, completely immune to the idea of her presence._

 _Walking out into the hallway with its noticeably darker lighting made her miss Starscream again. Starscream...that was a mistake that kept repeating in her mind. She'd been shoved into obscurity because of her perfidy, helping him instead of being loyal to the Autobots, and it had been Optimus Prime alone who had deemed her worthy of a second chance...far far away from any of them. Cliffjumper was a decent boss but he trusted everyone on here about as far as he could throw them, so there was far too much supervision for the few workers scattered on Moons One and Two._

 _Speaking of which...her communicator demanded she get back to watching the halls for spies. Buzzsaw and Laserbeak had ruined any sense of safety on earth, and she was paying the consequences._

 _"How did you get out of Unicron?"_

 _That had been the main question in her tribunal. Rodimus Prime, in his newness, allowed a lot of power-hungry Autobots to fill in for positions that were not even necessary._

 _There was a story...she'd missed Laserbeak and it had led to the attack on the ship headed towards Earth, Cliffjumper had her thrown in the brig for it about ten cycles before that horrific abomination smashed both Moons into bite-sized pieces and when he'd exploded it had set her free, and she'd turned invisible to hitch a ride on Aernaroth's corpse as it fell to Cybertron to avoid being detected by enemy radar. After that she hid in various warehouses until she'd heard of the Autobot victory and came forward to get a job, leading to her arrest, thanks to Cliffjumper-_

 _She was found not guilty of Desertion but stripped of her status and cast off with the other destitute neutrals and non-military Decepticons._

 _"I've been in this situation before," she thought, uselessly. She hadn't been alone that time. Now, looking around, it didn't appear that there were too many individuals seeking company._

 _There were small tribes of people around her in this alley, clumped together, huddled over small energon cubes, all looking hostile and angry. A fight had broken out between a few. All she had heard was that the Decepticon army had been decimated and cast off to Charr. Was Starscream all right?_

 _Only one way to find out._


	2. Chapter 2

"Mercuria. MERCURIA!" Lyra only had to step within Mercuria's comfort zone to be pulled into an arm hold and have a blaster to her face. That ugly guy could move fast. She chose to ignore him. "I already know that!"

Her burred guffaw moved down to a snicker of contempt. "Then why are you looking for him?"

This was the first moment Lyra got a good look at the area she was standing: it was closed in, dark, with what appeared to be a lot of orange metal wall material. There could be surveillance equipment all over. But the secret had been out for a while now, thanks to all of the people she'd spoken with over it. "I know you have the one who can talk to ghosts."

All laughter ceased. "You'll have to accomplish three tasks first," she shot back.

"When I meet him/her and find out if he or she can help me, THEN we'll negotiate price," Lyra countered.

"You've already met him, and he says 'what she says goes,'" growled the being still attempting to snap her neck as subtly as possible.

"Let me go."

"We always knew you were a nutcase, but this is beyond! You are NOT in a position to give anyone any orders!" Mercuria turned away and began to walk. "Throw her body out back, I don't even want to salvage that mess!"

He was no longer trying to be subtle, but Lyra was no longer attempting to pretend to allow him control. "I'm-ugh-your only-URG-link to Mirage!"

That made her stop. It made her come over as fast as her namesake. It made her get into Lyra's purple optics and never forget the rage before her. "There is no Mirage."

Lyra flexed an arm at the proper time and velocity to hurl her irritating would-be murderer over both their shoulders. He hit the end of the hallway with a low crash and a mild grunt. "That's a lie and you know it," she retorted, dusting imaginary particles off of her chest. "You're not going to keep letting THIS guy poke his stinger into you in the dark, not when you know Mirage's been looking for you, too." She allowed a smile. "I'll see myself out."

And with that, her last hope and the only reason she functioned ceased to exist with the click of a latch.

 _Today was gonna be the day._

 _She'd hidden inside this dumpster for two cycles and had been found out, dragged out, beaten and robbed, but this could be seen as a_ _ **good**_ _thing if she pretended that it was Primus' way of telling her to move on._

 _Her brother couldn't ignore her pleas for too long; she'd sent her notes to him via the General Autobot Message service before her trial had begun, and a few neutrals and Autobots had been picked up by loved ones so far. All you needed to do was know their name and call number, and she had that. All she had to do was wait._

 _It was really hard to wait, especially when no group wanted her and her invisibility function was starting to short out after a long period of starvation. She needed it powered up, but with no medium of exchange she had to wait._

 _Still...the wait was very difficult. They were sectioned off from other Autobot cities, fighting over scraps and trying to appear grateful to the Church of Primus people who came to give them risible assistance. The need was too great and her fighting skills were too pitiful. Many times she went without anything. Like today. In front of hundreds who HAD gotten something. She had to walk in full view of them._

 _"Smile! You could always go into 'rental,'" one of the tougher motorbikes sneered. "I'd throw some goodies at you for a good time." He and his friends erupted in oily, greasy glee, sneers infuriating her. If she only had a blaster…_

" _That face CAN'T smile. Not when it's been tore up so much." Now she REALLY wanted to kill them._

 _The initial speaker shrugged. "Beauty is only a light switch away," He lilted. The response was cacophonous._

 _But she was starving. They had four cubes just sitting there, and her invisibility function had fritzed out completely due to a lack of energon. It would be minimal work with a massive payoff. Hunger overrode pride. She walked up to him. Did she smile? She must have. He returned the gesture._

 _"I want a whole cube and only if it's you."_

 _He shrugged. "Pike gets to watch."_

 _"No deal."_

 _"Or we could all take you on now and you get nothing."_

 _They could. Harlotry at least put up the facade of belief that she had a choice in the matter. "Fine."_

 _He scooped her up and tossed her against a wall, while the others crowded around, leering. She prayed that they would only watch._

 _He grunted, groaned, sighed, and the blast receded. The group wavered backwards to provide some space, hands shuffling the cube over to him, where he guzzled half of it._

 _"HEY!" she cried._

 _He shook his head. "You were only okay. Take it or leave it." He shoved it in her hands. "Now be a good trick and motor out of here," with that, he smacked her on the rear end and the crowd parted, still roaring with amusement._

 _She drank it quickly and tossed the cube back at them, where it skidded harmlessly several meters away._

 _'Don't cry, you need the lubricant,' she told herself._


	3. Chapter 3

Arkvander didn't even look up from the metal he was welding. "My goodwill expired when you marched out that door," he reminded her.

Lyra's shoulders drooped and she sighed.

"Fine. Recharge, then get out. What happened?"

The plug felt amazing sliding into her port, like an addict's first taste of junk in forever. "You're right, I never know when to shut up."

He still did not allow his visor to flicker. He DID nod his head in encouragement.

Once she'd told him, he turned off the machine and shook his head. "Why did you come back here?"

"Is that really how you're going to treat me, after what you said?"

All he had to do was twist his mouth wryly.

It had been amazing but short, and in the end, his minicon put her tiny foot down and demanded what little there had been to end immediately. He called said minicon "the wife" - his anthropological semester stay on Paradron had taught him all sorts of cultural phrases to appropriate- and that should have tipped off Lyra but instead she chose to ignore it. The minicon got to stay and she had to disappear. He was right again; she shouldn't even be here.

All hope that he would come over and hold her or touch her cheek or even stand within three feet of her died when he started walking away from her to check the stairwell to make sure that "the wife" wasn't eavesdropping. "What are you going to do now?"

 _It was hard to roll out, but the explosions behind them were a sufficient motivator._

 _"ARGH!" Mirage's scream was real enough that she hesitated to turn around; if he'd been shot, she was in someone's crosshairs for certain and stopping would mean death. Devotion won out and she slowed her pace to see that debris had put a giant dent in him. "KEEP GOING!" he yelled._

 _Go where? In front of them was an army. Behind them the Decepticons assigned to blow up the towers around them were getting the job done as thoroughly as possible. There was smoke. And noise. And confusion. And panic._

 _The only thing that they could do was get away from the city and hope for the best, and when the smoke got so thick they couldn't see anything they went invisible. Then the unthinkable happened._

 _"Oasis! I'm-" He flickered, flashed, and came back corporeal. "I can't go back!"_

 _"Back?" Oh, no... he couldn't change!_

 _They had to get away. Somewhere. ANYWHERE!_

 _All she could spot was the dump. It was stacked with bodies of the fallen from other battles, rotten and stinking and rusty. It was the only shelter she saw. "Over here! There has to be a cargo holder in here somewhere!"_

 _The stench was unbearable. If she had any contents in her fuel tank they would have been evacuated by now. But it seemed like the best place to hide from more recent death and destruction._

 _A closed-bed carrier lay, doors ripped off, but far back enough and in an unlit area. Would anyone find them? Oasis didn't know. Mirage could barely transform, hobbling next to her as she first climbed up inside, then pulled him in. They crept into the back, dark and unknown, and listened to the sound of explosions around them._

 _She shook herself back online - when? what time is it? - and carefully crawled out, aware of the lack of noise. Not pin-drop silent, but the bombs and firing had pushed one side far enough away that it sounded like the war had passed, like a waning train. As she crawled back to Mirage, she saw his optics in the dark, blue and fearful._

 _"What do we do now?" he whispered frantically._

 _Even if their comfortable penthouse home no longer existed, another must. Friends or family or neighbors must have survived. They might be hiding nearby as well._

 _"We find an ally."_


	4. Chapter 4

She looked at him, full of love and distrust and dismay and dismal acceptance of reality. " I think I have to go back and try again," she replied.

Arkvander nodded before returning to work, now typing on his monitor with vigilance. His yellow visor saw nothing, said nothing, did nothing, and told her nothing. Why had he even spoken such words to her to begin with? Her memory files replayed the whole thing, the easy rapport, the hidden affection she thought one-sided, his startled confession, the abrupt dismissal as he told her that she was no longer welcome and had to leave...it was beyond melodramatic. Yet it infuriated her.

He did not look at her again. There was only the audible click and clack of typing. She gave him another moment to not disappoint her. He failed.

"Guess I'll go now. Have a nice existence."

Another click of another closed door.

* * *

Knock knock knock

knock-knock.

Silence.

Knock knock knock

knock-knock.

Still more silence.

 **Knock knock knock**

 **knock-knock.**

It came from behind and made her jump. "Why are you back here?"

Mercuria and the large wasp-bot stood, stacks of cubes in their arms and fresh carbon scarring on their bodies still vaporizing. Lyra attempted her best friendly smile. "Need help carrying that?"

"Sure." The wasp-bot dumped his entire load onto her without attempting a gentle transfer and stepped over the ones that had tumbled away. "Though dropping them's a bad idea."

"Thanks." At least she'd been given an opportunity. He opened the door and ushered them both in. "No distrust this time?"

"You can't shoot with your hands full," he replied. "That and we were out looking for you anyway."

"Oh?" Mercuria had not contributed to the conversation, so Lyra glanced at her, hoping for some kind of welcome sign.

"Don't bring me into this," she snarled. "He wanted to talk to you again, not me."

She'd been lead into a larger room with an eating area and meeting table on one side of half a wall cut away and a storage area for the energon cubes next to it. The wasp-bot beckoned. "Put those away and sit at the table."

Lyra carefully stacked the cubes and pulled out a chair. "NOT THAT ONE!" they bellowed in unison.

After calming down a bit, she tried another. Same response. They were messing with her. "Which one, then?"

Apparently none of them. She would ask which one, they would shrug and invite her to pick one, and bellow the same thing every time. Lyra gave up and sat on the wasp-bot's lap, which caused him delight but disgusted Mercuria, who stomped off to another room.

"Not 'rental equipment,' eh, honey?"

"You can call me Lyra." Or Oasis. But not Mishap. No, not Oasis, either. Lyra was fine.

"Fine. Lyra, sit on this chair. I'm Dauber."

"A vehicle painting 'bot. Nice." Oasis had been a car, Mishap had been a jet, Lyra was a carbuncle. They were getting along great already.

"Yes. So anyway…your request intrigued me. What makes you want to communicate with a deceased high-ranking Decepticon criminal?"

Honesty is the best policy. "He's hidden a lot of information that would get me back my position in the Autobot army. I need to know where it is. Only he can tell me."

Dauber shook his head. "You must have some powerful motivators to persuade him to do anything."

"No. But he owes me a favor or two."

Dauber sat back in his chair. "I can't see that working. How is this easier than raiding Autobot headquarters, or old Decepticon sites?"

"Those are locked up and secure under Red Alert. David Copperfield couldn't get in there."

This reference was lost on him, but Mercuria and her obvious lack of eavesdropping skills gave a good snort. "Why are you hiding in the doorway? Just sit at the table." Lyra waved an arm. "Dauber's lap is very comfortable."

*whoosh*

"She'll be back," Dauber noted, turning back to Lyra. "I don't like the idea of you owing me BIG time when this fails, so here's the deal: I know where he is and can talk to him. I haven't ever spoken to him, but the place he's hiding has some very vocal ghosts there, so I know they'll bring him out or bust. I guarantee nothing, but I do promise I'll do my best."

"That's not a lot."

"It's better than what you had earlier today, honey." Dauber looked up, in the doorway. His face shorted again. "Mercuria, just get in here already."

She sauntered into the storage area and grabbed a mug for energon. "I liked the ones on earth better," she commented, looking at Lyra wistfully.

'Doesn't miss Mirage my tailpipe,' Lyra thought.

"Are you done yet? 'Cause we have a list."

"A list..."

"We need three things from you and this séance is in the bag."

This was it: the road to real work, comfort, and security was laid out for her. All she had to do was help two thieves to get them to encourage a dead psychopath to reveal dangerous classified information for her to dig out of a maximum security bunker to present to a willing Prime who may or may not reward her.

Piece of beryllium bologna.

 _"Are we there yet? All the roads we've had to drive are winding, and all the lights that lead us here are blinding." Mirage had no equilibrium, thanks to that giant dent. At least his poetic sense hadn't left him. Oasis had to concede about the lighting, though: she had assumed that everything would be deep-space black but those crafty Decepticons wanted to make sure everyone saw the destruction they'd left in their wake, so portable lamps of a high wattage seared down upon them as they tentatively limped along the pathways where the rubble hadn't landed._

 _Rubble. That was all that was left._

 _No inhabitants, nothing to scavenge because they were too late and everything had already been picked clean. No shelter. The idea of going back to that Auto-graveyard made Oasis queasy as it was. The lights disoriented her, too._

 _"YOU! Stop right there!"_

 _Three large jets, giant pyramids landing as gracefully as dust, transformed in front of them. "Identification!"_

 _Mirage gaped at them. "We don't have that."_

 _The purple one aimed his arm-cannons at them with alacrity. "Then you're Autobot spies."_

 _Mirage wasn't having it. "Autobot spies WOULD have identification."_

 _*pow*_

 _She felt him fall on her, and screamed. His weight caused her to lose balance and as she struggled the three closed their circle._

 _"Next time, it won't be a concussion blast," he snarled. The yellow one stepped forward menacingly, pointing his cannon at Oasis._

 _"Who are you? Where are you from?"_

 _She told him. They all looked at each other and shrugged. "Never heard of it."_

 _"You're standing in it."_

 _The shot seared through her, stinging her shoulder and paralyzing her entire upper body. "Next time it's your HEAD!"_

 _Her optics were swimming. Light. Pain. A smirking purple collection of shapes adorned each one of them, like a badge or a gang symbol. She focused on that._

 _"What do you want from us?" Mirage demanded, quicker to regain his faculties._

 _The third one, a washed-out pink, finally spoke. "What do you have?"_

 _"Nothing," Oasis finally managed to wheeze out. "We left with our lives and nothing else."_

 _"You have just your lives? We could take that." She made it sound like she was compromising. All three closed in to start kicking them._

 _Screaming didn't help._


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't as hard to go back there as she'd assumed.

Her first task was simple enough. It would require being fast and enterprising and being evil, though.

The alleys were the same: thick, crowded, violent, cold. Dark. She heard the bike gangs grunting and the neutrals scurrying and the scavengers trying to be silent but failing. Throughout the area was the aura of hope...for today was Feeding Day.

Most charities had long given up on making any headway in this dismal pit of Cybertron, but the Church of Primus had some particularly stubborn acolytes. Giving away free energon on a specific date was their longest-running patch over a deep wound, and their most popular, which lead to a lot of bad behavior by a large mass of Cybertronians desperate for ANY scraps at all. Their resources were limited and heavily guarded. Being a non-pacific religion, they'd beaten everyone into submission by forcing the receivers of charity to form a line. Bullying was not tolerated (paradoxically) and after two misbehaviors you were put on their permanent rejection list. This Lyra already knew. She needed to catch up to what had changed in her absence. Luckily, some groups were bigger talkers than others.

Their latest attempt to "fix" things was a Work-for-Energon program, where you were put on a waiting list and when your time came up you were called upon to help with one of their mission projects (usually rebuilding some blighted area that would go back to ruin soon enough) and once you'd fulfilled so many hours in a day you would be rewarded with weak-grade fuel.

This would not be useful. At all. But it was what was going on that day, and she had a limited amount of time to accomplish this task. It didn't help at all that she was closer to the back of the line and many many others were in front of her.

Worse still...who was behind her. "Hey there, cutie. Haven't seen you here in a while."

A shrug was all he got. She couldn't bear to look at that nasty pile of scrap. He'd recognized her? Maybe Arkvander hadn't done as good a job.

"Hard up for fuel again? Too bad. Pike's been hard up for somethin' else." He thought that stroking her arm was a good idea. She yanked it away.

Long ago, she'd been taught the art of refined conversation and manners. Ladies de-escalated the situation, never made their harassers uncomfortable, smiled through the humiliation. She was at a loss as to how to get this guy to leave her alone. The memory of Decepticon bruisers kicking her brother and her to near-death came to her in an instant and she had to keep from panicking. They could do that, too. 'Ignore them, they'll go away,' her creator would say.

"Aww, don't be like that. I'm just being friendly." She continued to ignore him, keeping a hard frown on her face. Like Mercuria would. "Fine, you weren't that great anyway, and you look like slag." He turned back to his buddies. "Some tricks think they're platinum-plated," he sneered.

"I'd hit it from behind," one of them growled, leading to laughter.

The line moved about a foot.

Lyra somehow kept from shaking when they changed the subject and ignored her for the rest of the time they waited.

* * *

"Name?" the 'bot taking information was bored but trying to seem pleasant. Someone's minicon stuck doing something paltry.

"Mishap."

"Oooooh!" The biker behind her had overheard. "Cute!" Suppress the shudder. "Misssshaaaaaaaap..."

"Any special skills?"

The biker was quicker to reply. "Nope!"

Frag the plan, this guy was DEAD. She pulled her blaster out of subspace, shot him in the face, and disappeared in the confusion, jumping the table the minicon had been hiding behind and stepping nimbly around the equipment and volunteers rushing to quell the surging riot.

"WHERE THE FRAG IS THAT GLITCH! IMA PUNCH HER FACE IN!"

'Been there, done that,' Lyra mused, ducking away from the security guards who had come in to beat those bikers into sheet metal. Being invisible after such a long time felt AMAZING. She didn't bother to hide the grin since no one would see it.

And there it was!

The energon dispenser was smaller than your usual mass-production model, being crafted for easy travel. They'd bolted it down. She didn't have that kind of time and the confusion had already begun to be mollified, with a few volunteers already starting to turn back into the beverage vehicle. It was now or never.

Four accurate half-power blasts knocked those bolts off and left the machine - for the most part, there was a little scratch or two - unharmed. She already heard cries of indignation as she grabbed it and took off.

As part of her deal Dauber had removed her restraining bolt. Flying again... 'Don't cry, you need the lubricant.' she reminded herself. But it was too late.

Land while transforming mid-air, duck into the myriad tunnels that went to nowhere but easily confused anyone attempting to follow. Because she WAS being followed. She could hear them, searching fruitlessly, yelling in frustration. They passed her hiding place four times.

"Give it up, it's long gone, whatever it was that took it."

"We CAN'T. Without it, we're out of luck. We don't have the funds to get another."

"Wait, what?"

"...not for a long time, I mean. In the meantime, all of those poor 'bots will starve."

The guilt-trip approach. Nice. This meant that they were giving up completely in about five seconds.

"Let's go. PRIMUS will deal with it."

Clank clank clank clank clank.

Yeah, pretend to leave. Nice try. She waited three cycles before taking another way out different from where she'd come in, stashing the energon dispenser any time there was a sign of anyone. It didn't fit in her subspace compartment, which made this all the more difficult.

Dauber's optics GLOWED. Mercuria was clearly impressed.

"Well done. REALLY," she gushed, hooking it up in the energon room. "Let's see if that wiring job/blocking apparatus works with it." Click. Hum. Whoosh. "I'm a genius!" she crowed.

"Yes, you are." Dauber had a mug out already. "Come on, then, Lyra. Get a mugful and get ready for Task Number 2."

 _She heard them first._

 _"We're going the long way to avoid detection!"_

 _"Then shut up!"_

 _She couldn't lift her head. She couldn't speak. Mirage groaned._

 _"What was that?"_

 _A short gasp. "More dead civilians."_

 _Mirage's voice came up like a haunted spirit. "Helllllp..."_

 _"It lives!"_

 _"Drill Bit, we can't go picking up every dying 'bot you come across, or we'll never get back to base."_

 _"Code Red, shut up." He put his head on her chest and she squeaked. "You okay?"_

 _"Help."_

 _The one called Code Red crossed his arms. "What can you do for the Autobot cause that would motivate us to risk our wheels for you?"_

 _"Turn invisible..."_

 _"Can you do that now?"_

 _"Code Red, they can barely utilize their intake manifolds. This'll take a while to fix as it is."_

 _"Then leave them. We're out of time and out of space. Sentinel Prime already told us 'no more refugees' and I'm NOT going to get in trouble for this!"_

 _Drill Bit wasn't having it. He'd already radioed for backup._

 _"I won't forget this," Oasis swore._

* * *

 _Wandering that tiny corner of the planet got old quickly._

 _Once again, she was starving. Did she dare 'rent' herself out again? Her tab was due and they didn't look like they'd go easy on her. One of the barflies was more than willing to make an exchange. This one was filthy but he paid up front and didn't ask for anything crazy. He did, however, feel the need to comment on her technique._

 _"You keep disappearing," he complained. "Like you were surveillance-trained."_

 _"Sort of." She had only spied for a short amount of time, and it had been her only sell to get Autobots to adopt her. She was not that great in combat...and neither were they, really. What little they knew, they'd learned from Decepticons. She'd been on both sides; unfortunately, her training had been haphazard. Since she'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a mine, she didn't really know that much, except to get out of the way and follow orders. This, according to the wheezing pickup truck above her, made her a mediocre lay._

 _"Why are you here, anyway?" he demanded. She made something up. Then returned the query._

 _"Heh. I got too old to be their ninja."_

 _She'd heard of it, but not about it. "Ninja?"_

 _"Contract killer. People will pay good money to eliminate the competition without it being traced back to them." He smiled. "Go back in that bar, listen to a few conversations, show 'em you can go invisible, you'll see. Business is better than banging a half-dead 'Con next to a dumpster." He cracked a few joints. "You good to go again? I'll throw in a goodie or two."_

 _"On the house." Best payment for information ever. Two cycles later she'd scrapped an irritating small bike that was cutting into someone's profit margins and got enough fuel for a week._


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't that intimidating a structure.

The Decepticon Detention Center looked like any other rank-and-file bureaucracy building. It was square-shaped and had exactly two guards who all but held the door open for her when she was able to throw a piece of junk to startle them enough to leave their posts.

Getting past the front desk and into an elevator, no problem.

"Does anyone actually CARE about this?" Lyra wondered.

She got her answer.

He sat at a desk in front of the area she wanted to go through. Another visor without appreciation. "I know you're there," he called. "We have every type of detection imaginable."

So being invisible was pointless. She reappeared and nodded to him. "Code Red."

"How've you been, Lee?" He sounded almost friendly. Yet he didn't invite her to sit down.

"I've been better." We all knew whose fault THAT was. Not right now, though.

His entire body posture seemed as though he were about to ask about her last vacation. "So what are you here for?"

"Prisoner W45P from Vault 217."

He shook his head and stood up, pressing a button at his desk. "Vault 217 was blown up a long time ago."

Code Red was lying. He HAD to be. "What did you just do?"

"Nothing. Now stay where you are and don't try anything you'd regret." He spoke in a smooth upbeat tone as he held up the blaster. There was no deeper emotion to him. Even calling her by her flash-in-the-pan nickname had no affection to it. Lyra went invisible, ducked right instead of left to confuse the mech who might know her fighting style, and shot his computer before he shot her hand.

"I've already warned you about what I can see," he said, still as smooth as an Adult-Contemporary FM disc jockey.

He didn't see her left hand shoot that hole in his head. He'd be fine; his central processing was in his chest anyway. The head was a mere decoration.

She had NO time. At all. Yet she had to find this personality component. He wasn't lying, though; Vault 217 had been broken into and destroyed by STARSCREAM!?

"Primus fraggit all to the pit!" NOW WHAT?

Wait...some were salvaged...no way...NO WAY...NO-

The silent alarm had been triggered and the same two idiot guards who'd been at the front were here. Looking around. To hope that they didn't have the same detection applications would be too much.

"He got him in the head!" one exclaimed. "Check the door!" He dashed to the one place Lyra still hadn't figured out how to gain access and HELD THE DOOR FOR HIS COMRADE.

She kept her steps in line with theirs as they ran ahead, going left instead of right, which is where she and they parted ways.

This was ridiculous. Something HAD to go wrong, or else-

Vault 192 was unlocked.

"You have to be kidding me," she breathed. Okay, so her luck had run out, the drawer itself was locked. No problem. Jimmy it open and get out the component and stash it and make your way out and this was too easy, when would the other wheel drop-

*pow*

Ah, there it was. Code Red, a new hole in the middle of his helmet, blocked her way to the elevator. He didn't say a word. He let her invisibility short out in her distress and kept the blaster to her face until the guards quit running in circles and answered his call.

 _Many called it The Ghetto Paradox._

 _Say you began to make enough superfluous capital that you would become prone to robbery or theft...you should put it in a bank-like structure, correct?_

 _Well, for political reasons you are in a fenced-off area, and this area doesn't have banks. It is illegal to leave this area for any reason, once you have been thrown in there. Where to put your money?_

 _The best place is to use it to fortify your armor. Buy more kibble!_

 _Now you're strong AND your medium of exchange is no longer liquid!_

 _YET...you are easily identified as 'rich' and your armor and extras are torn off of you by gangs, leaving you destitute again._

 _So you work hard and smart and earn a lot of money..._

 _"Or you waste your money on stupid, vapid things," the mech in the gambling den declared. "That's where I come in."_

 _Lyra was there to pick up new business leads. She was never in the 'successful' category, mostly due to this area not really needing a lot of revenge killing where racketeering and extortion were much preferred. She should move on again if this night proved to be a dud, which it was._

 _He was beautiful. Stunning, even. He took her concentration away. "Who is that?" she murmured to no one in particular._

 _The black mech with a slashed Decepticon logo felt the need to speak up. "That would be Arkvander. He specializes in 'rental equipment.' This is no place for a lady." He shoved her out of the way before she could protest._

 _Arkvander kept walking, with a parade of washed-out femmes, minis, and mechs in his wake. Nobody Lyra knew, though._

 _"My rentals do it all! Chores! Dirty work! Menial tasks! Companionship..." he patted a nearly-offline barfly on the shoulder as he went. "Whatever you need to raise your social status or temporarily inflate your revenue, Arkvander can provide!"_

 _"Slave trade for the richest Neutrals dry up?" Someone shot out of a darkened corner. The voice commanded respect but the shadow revealed a surreptitious trade. The whole thing gave credence to this question coming from someone who would NOT be trifled with._

 _Arkvander's face reflected nothing. "Nah! Nah nah nah nah! Naht at all! " He sounded so slightly of Ironhide and Inferno...Lyra felt a huge pang of homesickness. If only to hear him speak more, but all he released was a proclamation that he was there to help his fellow 'bots and 'cons with great deals and fantastic service, guaranteed!_

 _He moved so gallantly. Lyra was captivated. She was not the only one. Several were contributing to the que to follow him out of that den of iniquity, especially when the owner screamed about this being the fifth time he'd been told to leave and then threatened to melt him down to make a table if he ever showed up there again. That doubled Lyra's efforts to keep an optic on him._

 _"Hey," the owner called, clamping a large hand on her shoulder as the parade poured out the door. "What would it cost for you to get rid of that piece of slag for me?"_

 _She eyed him up and down. He was serious. "Buy me a glass of oil and we'll talk," she replied._

* * *

 _He had heard her pitch being lobbed at a few people and one had complained. While he watched her work the room, he debated how to get her out of there, because if one thing made his life force boil, it was salesbots. Then Arkvander de-ranked her on his list of irritations._

 _"I want him gone and you out of here," he summarized. "In exchange..." He pulled out a small purple rod and her exclamation came out too late._

 _"Holy slag!"_

 _The owner hid it quickly, even though they were in his office. "I thought so. I know you like half down and half later, but as you can see, that's not feasible."_

 _Lyra crossed her arms and leaned back. "Those are time-released. I could take half now."_

 _"Riiiiiight." The owner stood up. "I'm not watching that. You've got the wrong kind of pervert, glitch." As he opened the door, she heard the voice from the shadows rumble "TAP!" and saw the owner rushing out. As she waited, she glanced around the office. A desk. That was it. Oh, wait, there was a filing cabinet, with odd markings. Nothing special about that._

 _The owner came back. "I have good news. Mr. Big himself has decided to contribute to your fund by doubling it."_

 _Her optics enlarged significantly. "I can do it tonight."_

 _"I thought so." He tossed her the rod. "Do it somewhere else, though. Oh by the way...fail and you don't want to see his reaction. Just a warning." He held the door to allow her exit and watched her walk past the shadow, which was very quiet for some reason. As was the rest of the bar._


	7. Chapter 7

"There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how."

Even that didn't create a smile. Not that he could, anyway. "Lyra, open your subspace compartment or I'll force it open myself," Code Red demanded.

"Why don't you just throw me in jail? It's what you want to do." She'd get sustenance and protection. Worked for her!

"As much as I dislike acquiescence, I'm afraid I have to proceed accordingly." The guards were not gentle. They threw her into a room with another bot. A medium-sized bot, with red, bright green, and orange paint. The colors clashed atrociously.

"What are you in for?" she asked. He scowled at her and looked away.

"Oh, right. Jaywalking." She got a puzzled look from him. "Never been to Earth, then. Okay..." She sat on the floor and relaxed. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go offline for a few seconds and have nightmares about Code Red learning how to play with our servos."

Still no response. Creepy.

* * *

A huge crash brought her back online. The screaming of the other bot didn't help. "For frack's sake, I'm trying to SLEEP here!" she yelled, pulling out her other blasters and peppering the offending parties. (Hard to do with only a viable left hand.) The first two fell, the ugly bot hid, the next two popped out but fragged if they couldn't find anyone to shoot at. It gave Lyra time to reposition and turn the next two into piles of metal. STILL TWO MORE retaliated. One of them got her good, too. Frag that, she was getting mad.

"ARGH!" she bellowed, jumping on the shoulders of the ugly mech cowering in the corner and flying down on the last two with a hail of blasts.

FINALLY. Peace and quiet. She rematerialized and turned to the ugly bot. "Sorry about your friends."

"F-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-friends?" he had the unholy amalgam of stutter and terror. "Th-th-th-they they they were here to kkkkkkkkkkkill mmmmm-"

The smoke was clearing up and she could see a get away worthy of one of Skyfire's cartoons. "Got it. Wanna get out of here?"

"A-a-a-a-a-a-a-and go wh-wh-wh-wh-where? I was I was I was sssafe hhhhhhere!"

"Then stay here. I have a bounty on my head and no time at all left to get away from it."

"Dddddddddark 'Bbbbot?"

She froze, mid stride. "How do you know about Dark 'Bot?"

The ugly bot only looked shy.

"What did you do? Or not do?"

He sobbed quietly.

"Unicron in the sky, WHAT!"

"I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-"

Code Red must be at their door any second now. She shoved a pad in his face. "WRITE IT DOWN!"

It was simple: wouldn't marry his 'daughter.'

"Time's up and that's hilarious," she declared. She turned invisible and patted him on the head. "Enjoy prison."

* * *

Dauber was near tears. Mercuria was stunned.

"How? Just...how? That should have killed you!"

"Yep!" she proclaimed proudly. She hadn't told them how she did it, and in spite of their inquisition, they didn't really seem to care. Dauber was in full mobilization. "So what's the third task?"

"You're going to need time for this one. To plan."

"Plan what? What am I doing? Do I need help?"

Dauber wasn't paying attention. Mercuria whapped him on the back of the head. "Tell her now, so that she'll shut up!"

"Oh, right. Kidnap Grimlock. Bring him here when you have him." And with that, Dauber tossed another blaster at her and hurried into another room.

 _Arkvander's "shop" barely registered. It looked like every other retail storefront, with inoffensive signage, decent ingress/egress, and the standard amount of lighting. As she stood there, appraising it, the lights inside went off and the "open" sign flipped to "closed."_

 _Perfect. A little while longer, and he'd be offline or all alone._

 _She saw a tiny minicon messing with a display. Graphically, it was nice. Not thrilling, but nice. 'Now you're just being mean,' Lyra chastised herself._

 _Then she saw Arkvander._

 _He moved quietly, with purpose, even when walking towards the dumpster. She felt heat in her body when he turned around and stared right at her._

 _There was no way he could see her. She was invisible._

 _With a start, he snapped out of his reverie and walked back inside, turning off the back lights and turning on the upstairs lights._

 _It was the easiest of things, to climb up the wall. She wished she could fly but could not. At least the court had given her a restraining bolt in lieu of removing her transforming cog altogether. Small favors, perhaps._

 _The room had a bed, a table with a LOT of polishes and waxes, a small grooming shower, and a large sound system. How did he keep all of these things and yet not be robbed? He had to have some kind of security system in place. Nothing was going off yet._

 _Maybe another floor would be better._

 _(Oops.)_

 _He hadn't seen her, but he might have heard her. His head popped up from the model he was working on to glance out the window. He put it down and opened the sash, and looked upward._

 _His visor met her optics and he smiled. "You're the 'bot from Tap's."_

 _"So you CAN see me!"_

 _He smiled even wider. "I know things about 'bots that would curl your ailerons."_

 _She swung in without effort. "Do tell!"_

 _He caught her, pausing a moment while she was in his arms. "Maybe later. Would you like a beverage of some sort?"_

 _The room made her energon pump stop harder than it did when he'd caught her. The entire room was models. Models of Autobots, of Deceptions, of Minis...it was terrifying. "Are these all of the mechs you've killed?"_

 _His laughter was gentle and full of comradery. "Nah. The war is a hobby of mine."_

 _"Wasn't a hobby when I was in it," she mumbled, accepting the mug she'd witnessed him pour from the small dispenser on the wall._

 _"You were in it? Wow. What did you do?"_

 _Telling him should have lulled him into a false sense of security to move her in for the kill, but he was so excited about her tale he kept jumping up and handing her the model of every character she included. Somewhere dreadfully inaccurate, and she felt embarrassed telling him, but he encouraged her input, jumping up to the desk to make notes before jumping up again to grab another. When he handed her Starscream, her voice faded, trailing off into lost longing as she held the tiny toy in her hands and uttered "I wish this were truly him."_

 _"He's dead, though." Arkvander kept his tone lilting. Lyra once again reminded herself not to waste lubricant._

 _"I know. It was in all of the news mediums." Reported gleefully. Starscream had no loves. Perhaps one..._

 _"You're grieving."_

 _She finished her story as quickly as possible. Arkvander put no more objects in her hands. It allowed for her to hold Starscream as she spoke._

 _"Who sent you to kill me, strange Autobot?"_

 _"The den's owner. And the bot in the shadows."_

 _He nodded, sipping his own mug of energon. "Dark 'Bot. No one has ever seen him. He has many followers."_

 _"I have to kill you or they'll kill me." Carefully, she handed him back his small Starscream._

 _He gave a slow grin, taking her hands into his, kissing her knuckles. "They can't get in here, which is why they sent you. If you stay here and help me and tell me stories and fix my models they can never kill you."_

 _No other offer had been made to her. Her entire life she'd been forced into homes or had to force her way in, yet at this moment someone was INVITING her. It was too much. Who could ever resist?_

 _"'Cause maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me."_

 _"I will," she promised._


	8. Chapter 8

"KIDNAP GRIMLOCK?!"

She managed to chase him down the hallway as he entered a cavernous garage. "HOW-argh!"

Body parts. Everywhere. The scent of death was not as strong as she recalled but it hit her and a wave of panic caused her optics to black out, coming back on when she was further up the hallway and gasping intakes of air.

Dauber was not there. She had to go back.

It was worse walking through that second time around, because now she had to take a good hard look at everything on shelves, in piles, staring blankly at her with gaping mouths and useless pleas for help in outstretched hands. She ran back outside.

Mercuria called her back to the table. "I can't go in there, either," she confessed, pouring half of her mug into the one Lyra had left and handing it over. "Too much like the prison breaks I used to help with."

Lyra didn't want to know. Maybe she did. It was better than re-telling her story instead.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Wait, yes I do. We did a break where everyone was, like in a cult, almost... they had drained all of their life force into their leader and were all dead in the feeder poses." They both took a moment to shudder. Lyra began to have second thoughts about asking. Instead she drank her energon. "Nova kicked one of them and he groaned. We freaked out and ran out the door, but one of them followed us." Lyra's optics widened as Mercuria met hers and nodded. "Here's the weird part: he was fine. Had no memory of the life before him, almost a new-spark. Arcee sent him off to Ultra Magnus...have you ever met him?"

"Who? The kid or Ultra Magnus?"

That made her smile, but not in the good way. "Ultra Magnus, dummy. He's always serious and really really boring. Elita-One HATED him." That made Lyra wonder. Elita-One gave away nothing. Ever. "She hated you, too."

"Who doesn't?" Lyra asked, trying not to let that statement bother her. It would explain a lot, though. Lyra had always assumed Elita-One was hard to please due to their hopeless scenario.

Dauber came out, wiping his hands on a cloth. "You're still here?"

"I'm formulating a plan." Where was she supposed to go? There was a bounty on her head and the Autobots had classified her as a fugitive and the only two places she could hide had either already kicked her out or were about to kick her out, PLUS the most familiar place to her would murder her when they realized that she had been the one to steal the energon dispenser.

Mercuria made a face and informed him at what point in the story she was revealing. "Did you tell her who that kid turned out to be?"

"Not yet. It was Hot Rod."

Who...?

"You ARE a dummy. Rodimus Prime! Our new Prime!"

Lyra had never met him, either. She'd seen him on the television screens around Cybertron. "So our new Prime came out of nowhere in a Decepticon prison..."

"Surrounded by hideous deactivated bodies like the ones that made you cry like a mini-bot," Dauber scoffed. "Great story. Now go get my Grimlock."

"This takes time and planning," Lyra countered. "This isn't as easy as busting into a minimum-security prison."

"Well, plan elsewhere. I've got company coming." When she still wouldn't move, he got ugly. "OR GO IN THE GARAGE."

That was that.

 _She was still admiring his handiwork – the scar on her face was completely gone, the forehead lifted, she looked, as HE stated "as beautiful as I see you." It was amazing. She hadn't felt attractive in forever._

 _"You should be watching the door, not your countenance," he purred. Whatever, she was pretty again. Prettier than his 'merchandise.' He'd given her a gift that made her entire spirit swell with joy._

 _But right, the door._

 _They stormed in while the bell continued to cheerfully ring to announce their presence._

 _"Backbeat!" Arkvander called, pausing his weapons repair._

 _The large truck glowered. Not as scary as Megatron._

 _"The word is on the street that the fire in your heart went out." He rumbled._

 _Arkvander smiled. "I'm sure you heard it all before but you never really had a doubt," he replied, soft and gentle as a bathtub surface. A bath...Lyra hadn't had one of those in ages..._

 _"Lyra, watch the door," he ordered, opening a curtain and ushering Backbeat and company through._

 _"All I ever do," she replied, trying to smile. Being his helper was boring. The little mini-con Mega got to do all of the fun stuff. All Lyra did was watch and wait. Almost no one ever came through the door._

 _Mega...an enigma. She helped, and stayed in his recharge room, and mostly stuck by his side, saying little. She did not speak to Lyra. A tiny maroon and burnt orange weapon that never left his sight and seemed to be the reason he never really said anything of substance to Lyra yet his visor would flicker at her when he thought neither noticed. When Mega was nowhere to be found, Lyra and Arkvander had spent many many moments working together in silence, or if they had something to speak of, it was his questions about the war and her time as a spy for Megatron. The only warm part for her was talking about Starscream. It soothed a little to remember a time where everything was easier. He didn't reveal much about himself, other than he called Mega 'the wife.' Currently, she was at the curtain, as though waiting for a cue. She didn't have long to wait. A loud noise erupted inside, causing Mega to launch herself with a yell._

 _What little training Lyra had kicked in. Going invisible, she ducked through the forbidden curtain and blasted the hell out of Backbeat, causing his so-called followers to bolt in fear. Mega chased after them, snarling._

 _"Arkvander?" Lyra reappeared, grabbing his waist in an attempt to pick him up. "Arkvander, speak to me!"_

 _"That REALLY hurts!" he groaned, grabbing at his side and trying to steady himself before she accidentally dropped him. "No, wait, Mega will fix me, it's okay." Another groan, a correction, and the wound didn't look as bad as they'd thought. Lyra let him slip a little further down. His hand went up to her face. "Let me look at you...for a second..." The visor flickered. "I love you." The visor went dark._

 _Mega jumped inside of the room. "LEAVE," she commanded, opening Arkvander's chassis. "Wait. Bring me -" she rattled off a list of things, giving Lyra something else to focus on instead of what had just transpired._

* * *

 _The next morning he was back up and moving - slowly - and asked her about what had happened. "Your combat experience came in handy," he praised. "But I can't keep you here."_

 _Double-take. "What?"_

 _"Darlin' I love ya, I really do, but you ticked off the wrong people. Twice. Backbeat came in to kill you but wanted us to bribe him first. That's just the beginning." He opened up the cash register and handed her a data-pad hidden below it. "Here's an address. Tell 'em I sent you."_

 _"I... don't get this."_

 _He sighed. "Lyra, for the last six cycles all you've been talking about is Starscream. This 'bot here knows how to talk to ghosts. Go see for yourself. Ya can't stay in the shop anymore, the wife doesn't want me keeping pets."_

 _The wrath exploded. "I'm not a pet!"_

 _"You're a liability. Go." He sat down at a monitor and didn't even look at her, let alone saying good-bye._

 _Lyra slowly trudged out the door._


	9. Chapter 9

If Lyra kept telling herself that the hardest part of this plan was coming up with it, maybe she'd believe it.

Going back to Tap's was no turbulence-free flight, though. She transformed, hid in the shadows, then became visible.

Has she mentioned how ecstatic flying again is? Not as great to have to keep low, and she made a lot of noise, but in this lawless corner of a political prisoner wasteland, it wasn't as big a deal as initially expected. People kept their heads down here.

She'd love to flatter herself into thinking that nobody noticed and that this place didn't have all sorts of security measures similar to what Code Red had, but that would be a fool's assumption. Being paranoid had been Starscream's main complaint about her, yet he benefitted from it when it suited his purpose.

At least she had this direction. Popping her blasters out of subspace, she climbed the wall and landed on the roof with a louder than expected *thud*.

*pow*

Raise your hand if you didn't see THAT coming. At least they weren't completely sure where she'd come from, or that would have been the second face she'd need replacing. It illuminated her enough for them to know who they were dealing with, unfortunately`.

"YOU AGAIN!"

That seemed to be everyone's salutation. Never the Universal Greeting! Lyra was invisible and low to the ground, which meant they were trying to shoot higher objects, going with the rational deduction that she would go higher, as jets do. Some lucky break, being a car first before being mutilated. Now she was tripping them like an 80s cartoon.

The first one was unrecognizable and therefore useless to her, so he was dead. The second one trembled but did not waver.

"You are the worst Autobot ever," he snarled.

"You apparently never heard of my years as a Decepticon," she snorted back. "So Backbeat...want to let me into the nightclub the easy way, or is the hard way far more honorable? Please say 'easy,' I've already had a tough night."

"If you wanted to get in you shouldn't have killed my partner, 'cause he had the other half of the security lock in his processor."

"There's an emergency override inside. You just have to let them know."

"Like I'm gonna do that for you!"

She shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "Okay!"

*pow*

TWO dead.

Fire a hole into the roof - probably a bad idea - try for where she thought they came in - a better idea - or just walk through the door like an idiot?

She hauled the smaller of the dead bodies in first, wrecking a card game. Everyone scattered for a second, giving her enough time to jump over the body and land in the shadow of Dark Bot's hiding place before the shock hit her left wingtip, causing her to pull back.

His angry roar came first. She decided that hearing "YOU AGAIN?" for the quintillionth time was boring. "Bah-weep-graaaaagnah wheep nini bong," she countered, keeping her voice as smooth as possible. How did Arkvander do it?

"YOU AGAIN!?"

"You were expecting Kickback?" There had to be something to short-circuit the force field, something simple, something even Wheeljack couldn't mess up...something... She inched along it, trying to keep her body from touching it, even as the bloodthirsty ruffians started moving towards her. "I need a couple of favors."

"You keep killing my soldiers and never get around to killing who I hired you to, yet you have the cast-iron manifolds to come back here and request assistance? VAPORIZE HER!"

It came to her immediately: if the field were incomplete, she could get a lot more accomplished than expected. Should this place lack a basement, though, forget it!

She shot through the floor, causing it to blister, then shatter. As she fell with the others she aimed for the spot in the now-ceiling that she thought might be supporting Dark Bot and fired. Better move it; the other assailants had landed in various levels of disarray, some able to bounce up and tackle her. There is no fun in being hit three different ways from three different directions. Once again, they assumed that as a jet, she would fly away instead of duck.

Dark 'Bot was holding on for dear life to the chair that threatened to slide into the hole stacked with angry Cybertronians who now knew what he looked like and were unimpressed with his average appearance. An ugly appearance, really.

"HEY!" Lyra remembered more colorful Earth phrases. "Are you MOTHER-FUCKING KIDDING ME!?"

The red, green, and neon orange bot realized that he was caught and scrambled to climb back up. NOW Lyra went into jet mode and grabbed that slag-sucking stutterer with a free arm, taking him as far away as possible.

His vocalizer wasn't the only hidden talent he had, however: one does not reach the peaks of brutality without knowledge of physical dominance. She was shrieking in pain a short distance later, forced to throw him on the roof of a building and chase him. After she'd shot his feet to hell she gave him a good swift kick in the stomach.

"AND STAY DOWN," she commanded. Primus, that hurt like a bitch!

"You will be dipped in acid SLOWLY," he promised. "I want your last moments to be EXCRUCIATING."

"I'm sure they will be, but not by your hand," she replied, shooting his foot a third time for good measure. "Tell me what kind of homing beacon you set off for your stooges to find you, and I'll let your other foot be repairable."

The bot tilted his head incredulously, as though he'd encountered a lunatic for the first time. "You have no idea who you are dealing with!"

Time to cuff his hands together. "Guess I'll have to dig around and pull it out myself!" she chirped, reaching for the obvious button. He didn't stop her. That meant something. Instead she put him on his stomach and reached for the shoulder.

"AUGH! NO! OK, OK, OK, I'll turn it off. Just-stay out of there!" Something was off about his performance. The miners she'd once worked with were malingerers, all of them, and they didn't act as insincere as this. She reached for the catch on his leg.

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO! Okay, okay it's OFF! Ya hear me, OFF! NOW QUIT IT!" Aha. The butt of the blaster rested on that spot, once his legs were secured.

"As I stated before...I need a couple of favors. You can radio your boys to get these objects and drop them off at specific coordinates and I'll pick them up at my leisure. I can pay you..." she paused to let him cackle over this. "Or you can consider my letting you continue to function a down payment."

"We will rape the slag out of you first..."

"I've been told I'm only mediocre, so you might get bored of that pretty quick. NOW, I've transmitted my demands and the place to get them, so go ahead and tell your boys and get a confirmation, 'cause I like to know these things went through..."

"...Peel your plating off piece by piece..."

"The Decepticons did that a while ago. It really stings, but after the fourth plate you stop feeling such intensity. Are they on their way?"

"...we will shatter your optics with our fists..."

"Had that done before, too. Didn't hurt so much as it was just inconvenient. Where's the confirmation?"

"...I personally will tear off your head and use it as an energon mug..."

"Well, that's a new one! Answer the question, please." He was wasting her time, and being a little slagger to boot. She ripped the plate in his leg off and heard him squeal.

"See, it really does sting. You should think about that before the next time your flunkies do that to some poor 'bot who only wanted to keep his paltry supply store open." He was fighting the restraints so badly she was afraid he'd hurt himself more than she would. "If I have to get out the soldering iron, I will."

He lay still.

"Much better, thank you. Now, again, please answer the question: where is their confirmation?"

"IN THE PIT, WITH YOU!" he screamed.

"Well, then you're just plain useless to me. I'll have to kill you and find another smuggler instead." She had a blaster that took a second to warm up and made a noise as it did it. "Bye-bye, Dark 'Bot."

"WAIT!"

She did. The warm-up noise hit a pitch too high to register to indicate that it was ready.

He took a very long time to get around to telling her. "They say it'll take two cycles."

"I don't have that time." She replied, knowing full well he was stalling. "They're almost here and if I see them, I'll have to kill you. None of them are that fast, since you were stupid and sent your best bruisers after Arkvander long ago and let me know who they are and how they fight." She let him have a second to digest this.

"My boys will-have to-have to go to earth to get it all."

"Nope. Headquarters has an embassy for the humans, you could get everything in the ingredients list yourself." She heard it in the air, loud and abrasive. They were coming. "If they haven't already sent a confirmation, we're done here, then." Stick the gun into the wiring and-

"They have! THEY HAVE! THEY HAVE!" this was true panic. The gun didn't leave its designated position.

"Where was this half a cycle ago? I'm on a time-table here, and you've wrecked it by being uncooperative."

His whole body and voice shook. "Holy Primus, you were a Decepticon."

"Don't throw your meager back-handed compliments at me." *beep* "There's the coordinates. They did their job, excellent." She bent over, putting her hand on his helmet to keep him still as she snarled in his audios. "I am keeping you alive only because you sprang me out of jail, albeit serendipity instead of any kind of generosity on your part. I only ask one more favor: you will wait ten micros before you sic your goons on me, no more, no less. Should I encounter ANY kind of interference, no amount of torture will keep me from finding a way to rectify the mistake I've made this evening. Good night."

She became invisible and transformed as she jumped off the building.

 _Starscream came stomping into his lab, muttering under his breath, letting the door *whoosh* behind him before stopping, staring at it in exasperation, and opening it again._

 _"Thank you," a disembodied voice said._

 _He would never get used to that. "There are no detection devices in here," he reminded her._

 _She reappeared, smiling. "Creeps you out to have me following you around all the time, doesn't it?"_

 _He turned away. "You are not ruining my bad mood." She was more than likely looking over his shoulder. There she was. "You ARE ruining whatever good will I have towards you!"_

 _Mishap smiled. "You know why I have to watch you." He had started walking towards his experimental table, paused, then walked to a counter and refrigeration unit, pulling things out of it. She loomed as he placed these on the table, making him consider her nuisance as a potential tool._

 _"Then be helpful!" he nudged a small book labeled Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book towards her, out of his way. "Read the instructions."_

 _She attempted to pick up the book but it tore to pieces in her hands. "I can't read this! No one has taught me these markings!"_

 _He smacked the remains out of her hand and pointed to the screen. "I've translated it into Cybertronian."_

 _"You set me up for disaster, then. Thanks." She could read all languages of Cybertronian just fine. Those tiny lines of shapes were beyond her education, however. "3/4 cup booter, softened."_

 _He paused to transpose for the scale he was enlarging to and put something yellow into a container. "Proceed."_

 _"Two...what is that word... oh, eggs."_

 _"You've heard of eggs, have you not?"_

 _"In one class, once. My tutor was not a proponent of comparative species. She thought I had a gift for politics, not zoology."_

 _THAT amused him. "You had a tutor? My, you must have been high society!"_

 _"And if I was, it doesn't matter, the Decepticons took it away." The Decepticons took away everything she'd ever known, ever._

 _Starscream cared not. "Next ingredient!"_

 _"This part makes no sense."_

 _"The sum of its parts will be comprehensive to ME. READ IT."_

 _"Two cups all-purpose flawar."_

 _He glanced at the screen. "I misspelled it. Close enough."_

 _"Three-quarter cup unsweetened...some kind of powder...coh-coh?"_

 _"Which I lack. MEGATRON!" He was on the radio too fast for Mishap to do anything other than duck first, disappear second._

 _The Decepticon leader - her boss - smoldered on the television. He was a living supernova, even at rest. "Starscream! My confection had better be complete, or else you are wasting my time!"_

 _"It wants COCOA. I have none. Your Dino-beau better be ready for a bland cake, if I cannot use chocolate!"_

 _"Nonsense! Soundwave!" He had turned to his left._

 _"Rumble, Frenzy, eject: operation: grocery shopping."_

 _This was too much for Mishap, who had to leave the room to stifle her laughter._


	10. Chapter 10

Of course she had some trouble collecting her supplies. She was met with a wall of thugs who were more than happy to pull her apart like a tangle of wires.

What they DIDN'T count on was that "somebody" tipped off a certain biker gang of the red herring she'd demanded in her list - energon dispenser - who wanted it pretty bad now that they'd gone awhile without one. She watched the brawl, watched the biker gang lose, watched the thugs one at a time give up trying to keep the post - since word travels fast in this area - and eventually give up, taking everything with them. Lyra needed to only corner her and demand the organic substances, something she was more than happy to do once Lyra made it abundantly clear she wasn't going to be nice, and that the Church of Primus wasn't that nice about replacement equipment being within their grasp so easily, either.

Poor kid...this thug was barely old enough to be free of her mentor, let alone trapped in a horrible life like this.

Lyra brought everything back to Arkvander's.

"Ima shoot you in the head!" he threatened.

"Relax, I'm here to 'rent' your 'equipment.' Where's the oven?" He had a kiln that could bake anything at any temperature.

He held out a hand. "Payment first."

"Fine, here." He wasn't messing around about signing a million forms, either.

"Do ya know how to use it?"

Even when condescending he was beautiful. Lyra tried not to sigh. "I do not. Help me?"

The end result, after a horrific mess, looked like a nightmare. Still, she was proud that they looked - and tasted, thanks Starscream - similar to what she had witness being assembled before. Better yet, the 'frosting' was pretty good, too!

Mega, who had quietly watched her throughout her trial and error, now spoke. "What are they?"

Her pride and ambition had never been higher. "The things that will bring me Grimlock!"

 _So much time had passed...yet she'd never heard from her brother._

 _In the early days of starvation Lyra had attempted to get in line for the Church of Primus' handouts. She heard much, learned little._

 _Then one day, she managed to grab the audio receptor of a volunteer. She did not like what she told her._

 _"There aren't any more relatives coming to pick anyone up..." she repeated._

 _"Yes. Mirage, the new Civilities Manager, ordered that it stop, since most budgets were redirected into repair funds." This volunteer gave a pitying look. "I'm sure your brother will find you sooner or later," she lied._

 _This was a low blow. "I'm sure he will," Lyra breathed, swaying a little from the shock. "After all we've been through. Excuse me."_

 _She returned to walking nowhere with nothing. Thinking of even less._


	11. Chapter 11

She was more than a little afraid of putting it in subspace. Arkvander was more than happy to sell her a couple of sealing boxes.

"It'll keep freshness in," he promised, handing the cakes inside the box to her. His visor and her optics lingered for a moment. Mega cleared her throat. "Take care."

"Good-bye," she replied, meaning it this time.

Because one way or another, she was never coming back.

* * *

Autobot security was a JOKE. It was easier breaking into Tap's.

Being his office and all, Lyra knew he'd realize she was here before even turning on the light, but she greeted him all the same. "Hello, brother."

He jumped. That was odd. Maybe being this comfortable made you softer than you realized.

When the light flashed on, the blaster at his temple was no mirage. It was her oasis, though. After a long drought of suffering.

"You're not going to get away with this," he vowed.

"I can and will. Because you left me to decompose YET AGAIN in another hole. Or was four million years of Decepticon mining an inconvenient dash in your processor?" THAT at least made him squirm. "You owe me. By the planetfull. Lucky for you, I only need one miniscule indulgence: introduce me to Grimlock."

He paused. His hands remained at his sides. "What's the catch?"

Again, honesty is the best policy. "Mirage, my dear, I need him for business purposes. I'd tell you it was nothing illegal if that meant anything to you, but since you MAKE the laws now, it doesn't really matter where on the spectrum of decency this falls."

She called him "my dear." She hated that phrase. He knew it, too. "You are furious with me."

"Apoplectic bordering on murderous. Shall we go?" Her invisibility had no limit, other than energon reserves. His had been damaged permanently. Being a few minutes ahead in both birth and exodus placement had its advantages. "I've had an itchy trigger finger lately, being in a political ghetto where there are no rules and everything is catch-all, so I'd recommend sparing me a lot of wasted time and doing what we've set out to do, thank you."

They turned three corners and were at the door of the Dinobot Rumpus Room.

"Thank you, sir."

"Your manners are impeccable," he complimented.

"Almost." A nice stun to the face would keep him under long enough. Time to walk through another door of destiny.

* * *

He was the big one. Lyra recalled him from battles and Autobot parties but never really knew him. Now was as good a time as any. "Hello, Grimlock."

He had been knee-deep in crayon drawings with the others. His visor flashed at the sight of the cake, now enticingly put on the table between them all. "WHAT THIS!?"

"I heard you Dinobots liked cake. So I baked you one, so that we could be friends." Grimlock was in Tyrannosaurus Rex mode in seconds, picking up the treat and breaking off pieces in his little hands for his fellow soldiers. "Can we be friends?"

"YES! ME GRIMLOCK LIKE YOU! WHO ARE YOU?"

"I'm Lyra. I used to hang out with Mirage." A million lifetimes ago.

"OH. ME GRIMLOCK THINK MIRAGE OKAY. ANY MORE CAKE?"

Lucky for her, there were two more in boxes in her subspace compartment. "Oh yes, but only for you, because I need you for a - job. A special job."

Now that he had optics, Grimlock was far more expressive. "A JOB...IT ETHICAL?"

She shook her head. "No. It's not illegal, but it IS toying with forces best left to Primus."

The Dinobots laughed. They sounded like they were laughing with her, though. "US DINOBOTS WERE MADE SAME WAY! ME GRIMLOCK GO WITH YOU!"

The others moved along. "This is just a job for Grimlock, I'm sorry! We have to be careful, or we'll get caught, and all of you are - so amazing, that we'd get caught!"

This worked for them. "YOU SNARL IN CHARGE UNTIL ME GRIMLOCK RETURN! LET'S GO, FRIEND LYRA! MORE CAKE!"

"More cake," she agreed, taking his tiny hand and disappearing. "I have to stay invisible to be safe, but you're okay on your own," she told him.

"BYE, DINOBOTS!"

And they were off.

 _"This is Drill Bit, calling in an 8675309, coordinates-"_

 _Code Red grabbed his arm and spun him towards a hill. Although Oasis couldn't make anything out, a small puff of smoke erupted from behind a pile of what used to be the neighbor's ballroom._

 _"-Slag. 86 that, we see the disturbance and are going to investigate instead, new coordinates-"_

 _Code Red, staring at the plume that continued to curl skyward, felt the tap on his foot. Somehow Oasis had managed to crawl her way to him, her optics dull and dead as they met his visor. His inscrutable visor. Heaving a deep sigh, he knelt down and handed her a small energon cube._

 _"I'm only prolonging your misery, you know."_

 _She didn't even thank him, because she knew he was right. Mirage couldn't drink it at first, coughing, but soon drank half of it before a shadow fell on them._

 _"They're not coming back." She was battered and small, with a servant's mark on her shoulder. Lyra recognized the faction and color scheme. She was of Solaris._

 _"Is anyone else here?" she asked, keeping an optic on her brother at the same time._

 _"No, madam Oasis."_

 _Wealth and privilege end during war, but Oasis hadn't learned that yet. She regarded this servant as a servant. "Help me get him sitting." When she turned towards her brother, she missed the flash in this small 'bot's optics._

 _"Yes, madam."_

 _"Have you found any sources of energon here?"_

 _"No, madam."_

 _"Where did you look?"_

 _Another unnoticed flash. "All around, madam."_

 _"Such as?"_

 _"Everything the light touches, madam. I saw a few scavengers and threw some of the silverware at them."_

 _Oasis placed the rest of the cube in Mirage's hands. He groaned, fingers grasping at it. "But they'll never throw it back to you," she sighed to herself. Standing up, she dusted herself and motioned to the servant. "Watch him while I search for some myself."_

 _"Yes, madam."_

 _Of course there was nothing. And of course the cube was missing and what Mirage had managed to rescue during their flight and stashed had been ransacked._

 _She truly had not anticipated this. Not even bothering to think, she hoisted Mirage over her shoulders and carried him on her back, picking her way through the empty piles of rubble towards the smoke where those other 'bots had gone._

 _It took longer to get there than it should have. Oddly, it appeared as though the smoke kept disappearing and reappearing. 'One more hill, one more hill, two more hills, one more hill.' She chanted that in her head, then out loud._

 _"One more hill, one more hill, two more hills, one more hill."_

 _The smoke stopped. It didn't cease to exist, it didn't taper off, it coldly flashed to nothing. Don't panic._

 _"I only have one more hill," she told Mirage, who was offline. It was more for her benefit anyway. They were leaving the burning lights to plunge into potential problems. Oasis didn't realize that. She had not been out in the cold long enough._

 _When she got to said hill, there was nothing. Cold hills similar to the cold hills she'd already fought chrome and nail to overcome. She burst out sobbing. She and Mirage dropped to the ground in the darkness, laying there for an indiscernible amount of time._

 _As she lay there, depleted, around her she heard scuffling. Smaller beings, bodiless voices, movement nearby. Nothing concrete. Mostly she lay there thinking of how she would soon deactivate IF IT WEREN'T SO NOISY!_

 _Noisy..._

 _On her hands and knees, feeling around the ground and the piles, bit by bit, moment by moment. It took a very long time - that was all she had left, after all, other than her near-dead brother - and she had gone over that area once before yet it was the noisiest part - and... there it was. A door._

 _knockknockknockknockknock_

 _Nothing._

 _"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" she bellowed. "I'LL BRING ANYONE WITHIN AUDIO RANGE OVER HERE QUICK IF YOU DON'T!"_

 _Silence._

 _knockknockknockknockknock-_

 _*CLICK* The blaster came out first and a red and blue 'bot greeted her. "Get out of here NOW."_

 _"I need help!" she countered. "My brother's almost dead and there's nowhere to go."_

 _He had a semi-circle head that was nowhere near as downturn as his countenance. "Not my problem."_

 _Enraged and filled with an energy that came from who-knows-where, Lyra grabbed his blaster and used it to block him from slamming the door. "I will MAKE it your problem! Do you think you can get out of here before I bring a horde of survivors down on you?"_

 _He faltered, backing into another 'bot. Drill Bit! "Get her out of here!" the first one scratched. Drill Bit steadied his aiming arm._

 _"Sorry," he said. "You threatened my buddy."_

 _Lyra had nothing left in her, other than desperation. "I'll leave! I'll leave," she promised, handing the blaster back, handle first. "And I won't come back and I won't tell anyone anything. But ONLY if you take my brother. Please. PLEASE!" They had moved over to shove her out, closing the door as quietly as possible as she landed on her aft._

 _The noise resumed inside. Lyra propped herself upright and tottered back to her brother, within sight of where she was, if she squinted into the darkness enough._

 _When she made it back to him she laid his head on her shoulder and cried herself dry, going offline much later._

 _*clank*_

 _Coming online hurt. A lot. Lyra looked up at some 'bots offering her energon._

 _"There you go, sip it, you're doing fine." He smiled at her. "Want to sit up a little more?"_

 _"Yes, thank you." He had a few others with him who were looking at Mirage._

 _"Yeah, this is all depletion. I don't know about the invisibility thing."_

 _That was when she realized that they were no longer outside. Both were on tables in a cheery yellow operating room. "Where am I?"_

 _The first medic had no mouth but accessories that lit up. "Welcome to the Autobots! I'm Wheeljack." He handed her another cube. "Let's take a look at that broken chestplate, huh?"_


	12. Chapter 12

Going back into that garage full of parts was bad enough, but it was far worse to find Arkvander in there.

"YOU AGAIN!?" she cried, backing into Grimlock, mid-cakebite.

His smile, slow and sweet and easy and beautiful, came up in delight at the sight of two things he never thought he'd see in his life. "You got him."

"ME GRIMLOCK EASY TO GET! NOW WHAT YOU WANT ME GRIMLOCK FOR?" Grimlock finished his second treat and transformed back into mech mode, galloping over to both.

"Grimlock, I am Dauber, and this is Arkvander. We need your help." Dauber gestured towards the piles and piles of sacrilege. Lyra recognized the energon dispenser, re-formatted. She also noticed that Arkvander was unlocking a small safe to bring out the personality chip she'd procured as Dauber told Grimlock what they needed from him.

Grimlock's face showed nothing, but his voice lowered 100 decibels to a threatening growl. "You know Me Grimlock can make new Autobot. No one know that."

"Remember Wheeljack? He built you. He used a certain personality chip that I KNOW for a fact knew how to make new 'bots. And Wheeljack got them from me...before every Autobot security system in the world learned to recognize me and vaporize me on the spot." Dauber put his hands on Grimlock. "That knowledge is in that brain of yours somewhere. I'm hoping it'll come to you as you go. Here-" The computer showed schematics of a wasp-looking mech. "This is Waspinator. We're bringing him back. With your help."

Grimlock nodded slowly. "Me Grimlock see. And Me Grimlock help. Then Me Grimlock smash whole place. No one else use Me Grimlock like this." He turned to Lyra. "You Lyra promise Me Grimlock more cake."

Lyra nodded.

"Good. Me Grimlock do it for more cake. And for Scientific advancement." That...was specific..."HAND ME GRIMLOCK SOLDER IRON!"

With a flurry of movement, the giant Dinobot gave Dauber orders. Arkvander slipped back to Lyra, who was backing out of the terrifying garage.

"Come here, I want to give you something," he announced, pulling her closer.

"Oh, really? What's that?" More than likely shoot her for finishing the three tasks. It would get them out of their side of the bargain.

He kissed her.

In the middle of mutilated corpses in a poorly-lit reverberating garage, with a madmech and a Dinobot to their left and Mercuria pacing the hallway to their right, he pressed up against her, holding her as tightly as he could, then pulled away before handing her the small model of Starscream.

"About last time..." He didn't even fidget. Hard as a rock, no disingenuous smile, nothing but purpose. "I stand by what I said. I love you. I don't just say that, I mean it." He gestured to the Starscream. "Keep that to remember me."

She didn't think. She just reached. Enveloped herself into as hard a hug as possible, enfolded in his arms. Deeply. Her head was the perfect height to be nestled in his shoulder. No kissing. After a moment, she worked up the courage to tap his back, to signify that he could let go...he didn't. A deep deep hold, only relinquished for him to kiss her forehead and back away, calling to Dauber that he would expect his equipment back the next day. Dauber made a noncommittal noise before Grimlock commanded more things. Arkvander turned and hurried out.

Lyra stared at the toy in her hands. Starscream was perfect. No flaws, no painting mistakes. The cruel upturn of his lip was a nice touch. Arkvander did nothing halfway.

Things were getting violent in the corner. Grimlock was welding and bellowing more orders to Dauber.

She...needed a moment. To sit at the table, perhaps.

 _Optimus Prime did not usually partake in communal beverage consumption in the main dining area as the others. He WANTED to, but he was always so busy! Time was incredibly difficult to acquire, being the most precious resource he had._

 _Other than his Autobots._

 _He had to keep reminding himself that. Energon with the others it was, this report on Megatron's odd prison population could wait a moment. He walked down the hallway, filled with Autobots scurrying and moving, all being really nice and taking a moment to say 'hi' to him. They didn't have to do that. It made him feel loved. Respected._

 _Bumblebee ran up to him. "Optimus! How's it going? Did you hear about Spike?"_

 _"It's going well, Bumblebee, I'm on my way to get refreshment. Want to come with me?"_

 _"Sure!"_

 _The hallway was a little harder to navigate, but they did fine. "I had not heard about Spike. What happened?"_

 _"He got a guitar for Christmas and finally learned a song? Want to hear it? He's in the commissary now."_

 _"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Optimus replied. He was glad to be out and talking to people._

 _Before he'd walked out of his office he'd spent a few seconds pondering his options. He stood up, went to the shelf full of odd objects, and took down the small model of Elita-One. Whenever he required comfort or a moment to think he'd go to his shelf. Elita-One was a beautiful rendering from Drill Bit. He had been an amazing craftsmech. Rumor had it that he could build mechs from scratch. That was a tough but limited skill, so he'd been told, but several Autobots had admitted to knowing how. They just didn't want to, they claimed. Wheeljack dove into it when it was Dinobot creation time._

 _Grimlock and the other Dinobots had surrounded Spike, seated on the ground, legs crossed, ready and eager to hear. "Hey! Optimus! Nice to see you! "_

 _"I came to hear your song," the Prime declared._

 _"Just in time! Two three four-" Spike strummed quickly and efficiently. Simple four-chord progression. Jazz and Prowl came in and ducked to the side, Prowl continuing his intended path, Jazz folding his arms and listening._

 _"AND AFTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL_

 _YOU'RE MAH WONDERWAAAAAAAAAAALL."_

 _It seemed as though he were attempting a different accent. And the strumming slowed down. And he forgot the words. All in all, a solid C+. Everyone applauded politely when he finished._

 _Prowl had returned to Jazz, mugs in hands. "You clapped? I thought you said any douchebag could play that song," he commented._

 _Spike hadn't heard, but Optimus did. "WELL DONE, SPIKE!" he announced a little too loudly, patting him on the back. "What song will you learn next?"_

 _"Well, I'm not sure yet. Maybe 'Creep.' Or some Dylan?" Jazz and Prowl cackled uproariously at that. Optimus gave them a LOOK._

 _"I'm sure whatever talent you have will come out with practice and hard work," he assured him, glaring at the two black-and-white Autobots who obviously didn't have enough to do. "Jazz! Prowl! I need status reports. Follow me."_

 _"Wait, Optimus, you forgot your drink!" Bumblebee knew he wouldn't take a mug with him; commissary rules._

 _"I'll get it later." Always later._

 _Much later. When he came back, Grimlock was the only being there, silently coloring with giant crayons. Something pulled at him. He sat next to the Dinobot and said nothing, merely drinking his beverage._

 _"So...how are you?"_

 _Silence. Grimlock's violent battle scene gained more orange laser shots at Laserbeak._

 _"Me Grimlock fine." He had a lower voice, weighted down by the sludge of resentment. Wheeljack had warned him that Grimlock had figured out that Optimus' redirection was a rejection._

 _"And the Dinobots?" This was getting awkward._

 _"They fine, too."_

 _"That's good." This continued to be all wrong. They cared for each other. They knew it. But it was all wrong. It didn't work, it couldn't work, and it frustrated Optimus that he was expected to TRY, as though an attempt would mitigate the disaster that would follow. He couldn't tell Grimlock how he felt and couldn't show it. Grimlock held a grudge for it. "What are you drawing?"_

 _"A picture." He selected a lovely shade of pink and outlined some of the energon cubes._

 _"Oh. It's. Lovely." This awkwardness was too much. He finished his beverage in silence, replaced his battle mask, and stood up. "I'll get going. See you later."_

 _"Yes."_

 _Never was an empty hallway so welcoming._


	13. Chapter 13

CRASH. SMASH. KABOOM. With every loud noise, she flinched. Mercuria jumped up and ran down the hallway, only to return frowning and unwilling to share any details.

"YOU LYRA! GET IN HERE! ME GRIMLOCK CREATE LIFE!"

It never got any easier. The open mouths, the optics dark, the directionless hands, the stacks of helmets. Yet Grimlock eagerly beckoned her over.

The being was sitting up uneasily. "mmmmmmWaspinator have SUCH a HEADACHE." He did a double take at the robots around him. "Dauber!" He pitched himself forward to crush his friend...oooh, no, wait...that looked a little friendlier than was formerly assessed. The kissing was getting interesting.

Mercuria was no fun at all, chasing them all out of that nasty catacomb to give them a few moments and to ask Grimlock what had just happened.

Grimlock paused to glare at the noises coming from behind a closed door. Then he waved his arms demonstratively, forcing them to dodge them in such a small hallway. "Me Grimlock build Wasp! Put in chip! Electric shock! BOOM! Me Grimlock genius!"

Clankclankclankclankclankclankclank-

All three glanced at each other and edged away from the door. "I think I need to plan the next part of this," Lyra surmised. "Grimlock? Come to the table, I have your last cake."

His visor gleamed. He transformed and waddled close behind.

* * *

Dauber didn't come out for a very long time. As in, if this were earth the star it revolves around would have disappeared and returned in the time he hid in his giant mausoleum with 'Waspinator.'

We they finally sauntered to the table, grinning, Dauber didn't bother with introductions or anything pleasant. He sat down, sipped his energon, smiled at his companion and clearly announced, "I want all of you gone before I finish this mug."

Maybe he thought he and his companion had better fighting skills. Maybe he was still high from his non-stop interactions. Maybe-no, no 'maybe'; the 'bot was an idiot. Lyra had a blaster to his head and a Dinobot holding him still before Mercuria even reacted.

"Waspinator, I wouldn't move if I were you," Lyra said, over Dauber's futile grunts. "Your creator has your lover pretty well secured, and I'm so annoyed with his slag-"

"You wouldn't dare!" Dauber countered. "I'm the only hope you have!"

"Oh, spare me. You don't even have ghost powers, do you?" Lyra oh-so-slightly moved her blaster. "You just wanted what you wanted and hoped I wouldn't spend a second impulse questioning how agreeable you'd been once I came back and told you what I needed." The blaster whirred slightly. "If I shoot off the top of your helmet you won't be destroyed, but it'll take a VERY long time to get back to normal. Mercuria?"

The tarnished silver female had not stirred. Her optics lit dully in acknowledgement. "He CAN talk to ghosts, but he wasn't going to help you. I was supposed to kill you while they were banging." The light in them intensified. "Mirage doesn't know where you are. I realized that when Dauber pointed out that you wouldn't still be in this slag pit if you had any means necessary to leave it."

That made sense. "So why didn't you kill me?"

She shrugged.

Waspinator, who'd been silent this whole time, looked lost. "Why iszzz Dino-bot hurting Dauber?"

"ME GRIMLOCK PROMISED COOKIES!" He looked so proud of himself. This seemed to motivate Mercuria to stand up and put a hand on Waspinator's shoulder.

"Dauber made a deal. Now he gets to keep it. I'll stay here with this one-" her blaster was out in a flash. "-while you take care of business, HONEY."

"I won't forget this," Dauber hissed.

"Neither will I," chimed in Lyra, with a different tone. The same one she used with Dark 'Bot.

 _Code Red and Drill Bit had died horrifically._

 _No one liked to talk about it._

 _Arcee did not speak of Firestar's death._

 _Total destruction never had a place in civilized discourse. No matter how often it happened and how mundane it became after millennia of conflict, few Cybertronians would entertain another's final moments functioning._

 _The Autobots had a fear of telling certain tales, and the scariest one of all had no scientific basis. Even Perceptor, the most loquacious, would turn a cold shoulder to anyone who brought up the subject, merely stating "That is not pertinent to my recent research."_

 _The twins, however..._

 _'Relish' would be a good description. Far more apt would be "psychopathically enjoyed." Whatever sick derivation they produced, telling ghost stories to horrify Bumblebee gave them such a blast of pleasure they were quick to run off to find the Autobot equivalent of cigarettes._

 _On Cybertron Kup considered himself immune to the taboo. "I've been dead twice, it's not as scary as you think," he'd preface before beginning to spin a yarn - only to be interrupted by someone more squeamish._

 _On Earth, Spike loved these. He had a different cultural connection to death - it was removed and sanitized, considered horrific yet glorified as entertainment. Ghosts were not real no matter how much humans fabricated evidence of it. "Tell the one about the herd of guinea pigatrons!" he'd beg._

 _"No, I hate that one," Bumblebee objected. In vain. Sunstreaker opened his mouth. "Tell the one about the Decepticon Crypt!" That was at least the enemy. Every other ghost story seemed to be about mournful or vengeful Autobot warriors bent on justice at the expense of the functioning._

 _Sideswipe cut in. "The Decepticons are obsessed with war and hierarchy," he began._

 _Sunstreaker resented his opportunity to torment a small Beetle being cut off. "They're also egotistical narcissists," he countered._

 _Bumblebee and Spike glanced at each other, daring the other one to laugh at his lack of awareness._

 _"Whenever a high ranking official finally kicks it, a statue appears in their Hall of Heroes...also called the Decepticon Crypt."_

 _Sunstreaker knelt down to Spike's level. "It's a dark hole that they say you can only find when you're not looking for it." He leaned in closer. "Usually when you're avoiding anything...dangerous."_

 _Sideswipe grabbed Bumblebee's shoulders and shook him. "Nobody knows how the statues get there, nobody knows WHO will get to be there, but they appear just the same...the minute the chosen one expires."_

 _"Stop it!" the yellow minibot objected. His hands had not uncovered his optics since they'd begun._

 _Sunstreaker knocked him down to the floor. "You asked for the story." He got back up and helped Bumblebee in the process._

 _Sideswipe smiled at Spike. "It doesn't exist, although 'bots swear up and down that it's real. That they've seen it. But you look at schematics of Cybertron and it just isn't there."_

 _"I'll find it," Spike ventured. He let them shake their heads before making more demands. "Now tell the guinea pigatron one."_

 _"NO!" Bumblebee cried, running out of the room._


	14. Chapter 14

It was less terrifying than the warehouse full of body parts. Still not great.

After forever in a mine and then being a jet with a restraining bolt, Lyra was NOT very inclined to jump into a drainage pipe.

"This has to be a joke," she snarled, casting a baleful eye at the tied-up Dauber. "Throw him down first."

Grimlock picked him up while Dauber sassed. "Whatever, hone-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Dino-mode Grimlock plugged his "nose" and jumped after him.

"I hate being the only sane one." It was time to dredge up that old not-fear of the dark. Jump!

Starscream's ability to hover in the air had always mystified her. She was also jealous of it on multiple occasions, like right now. *CLUNK*

"GOOD LANDING!" Grimlock applauded.

"Ha ha, thanks." She struggled back up and regarded her surroundings. "So... this is it?"

It was not that ghoulish. Maybe the old ghost stories Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had told were just that: stories. It was a dark room with large statues that had quotes on them. "Death comes to he who crosses me," "Pax per tyrannidem," "Megatron, is that you?" AHA.

"...why is it just his legs?"

Dauber cleared his throat. "That was all that was left of him. Someone thought they were funny." He wiggled his shoulders in an attempt to not only emphasize his restraints but to be sardonic. "If I'm going to be performing a ceremony, I need some freedom here."

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Lyra replied as Grimlock made a move to untie him. "Just talk."

Dauber sighed. "Starscream...wherever you are...sorry I didn't bring you any presents. Except for this Dinobot. Go ahead and take him."

Lyra didn't get to him in time. Oops. Now Dauber had to talk to ghosts while being sat on.

It hit her a split second later that this was an excellent way to keep a ghost from invading your body-

 _"AT LAST! BODY AUTONOMY!" Grimlock watched Lyra stretch her arms out victoriously before leaping into jet mode and collapsing. "What-THIS BODY IS CONFUSING!"_

 _This did not surprise the Dinobot. He heard more than he let on; and Ratchet and Wheeljack didn't speak in low enough tones._

 _Lyra's composition had been subject of a lot of speculation. Originally a car, changed into a jet, modified by Primus-knows-who...both medics wanted to keep studying her before Optimus Prime put the kibosh on that. (He's good at that.)_

 _Dauber looked at him calmly. "This giant could carry you if you get him off of me."_

 _Only laughter greeted him. "I've tangled with him enough to know better." 'Lyra' tripped and fell on nothing. "Blast!" She glanced at the two and weighed her options. "Why DID you come here?"_

 _"HER LYRA WANT TO TALK TO YOU." Grimlock knew the particulars - Lyra had told him - but he was uncertain how detailed he should be. Well, Lyra wasn't here, so he might as well tell Starscream. "YOU STARSCREAM KNOW THINGS TO GET HER OUT OF GHETTO."_

 _"Mishap is in the ghetto..." he laughed more. "Fitting. They dredged her up from a hole to begin with." He glanced at Dauber. "You appear to be comfortable enough. Come, Dino-dolt. I might require your assistance."_

 _Grimlock didn't budge. "ME GRIMLOCK PROMISED COOKIES."_

 _"Of course you were. I know how to assemble those. Chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin?"_

 _Starscream dead was as stupid as Starscream alive. "YOU NEED TO ASK?"_

 _"Right. The former. Come along!"_

 _Grimlock hoisted Dauber over his shoulder and carried him out. "WE NEED DIRECTIONS."_

* * *

 _"WHY YOU STARSCREAM HELP LYRA?"_

 _He has expected that question. "Because I intend to keep this body until I find another."_

 _There was another reason but it was too embarrassing._

 _He felt obligated._

 _He shouldn't; it was Mishap's own fault she was a lousy spy and a lousy traitor and even worse at providing sustenance when those moronic Autobots assumed that starving him to death would get him to play nice. She was a fool to reject his proposal to perpetually shadow him and even more foolish to assume those same intolerant bigoted Autobots wouldn't stick her in a hole somewhere, too...and look where she'd been sentenced. No wonder she'd turned to him yet again. This faith in him had been sorely missed. For once in his existence on this planet, someone really and truly needed him, and it overinflated his ego that he could do it._

 _The hall of records was another nondescript Decepticon building. Two guards outside, demanding to see identification, especially when Grimlock dropped Dauber at their feet._

 _"YOU NO NEED IDENTI-MICATION."_

 _Well...he was Grimlock...sure, they'll watch your "prisoner."_

 _Code Red didn't give them a second. He opened fire._

 _"ARGH!" It all happened so QUICKLY, and Starscream wasn't used to this body at all! When he tried to leap into the air, the slagging thing fell to the floor, getting in Grimlock's way so that his charge was interfered with long enough to get him hit, causing him to pitch sideways instead of forward and land on Code Red attempting to dodge both of them. By the time the 'bot on the bottom had untangled herself, there was more smoke and alarms than necessary to facilitate a confusion Starscream could manipulate. He had her crawling on the floor to the computer to manually override the elevators and get going on the information search he knew Mishap required._

 _"ME GRIMLOCK JUST STAY RIGHT HERE. SITTING ON AUTOBOTS EASY! MAYBE ME GRIMLOCK JUST DO THIS WHEN FIGHTING TOO MUCH EFFORT."_

 _In spite of himself, Starscream smiled. "You do that, bozo."_

 _"ME GRIMLOCK NO BOZO, ME KING!"_

 _He was starting to get on Starscream's nerves. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown," he muttered to himself. A crown he hoped to acquire._

 _Decepticon passwords had been a hopeless joke in that they all followed the same algorithm. Starscream had what he needed in fewer than three tries. Lyra's fingers at least weren't irritatingly iconoclastic. Those parts he'd put in her were a mess, though. How she had adapted to operating like this was a true commentary on her inner strength._

 _"AHA!" he cried triumphantly. This would be more than enough._


	15. Chapter 15

-YRGHL

She was in the middle of a smoky office building with strange sights before her. "Where-" Grimlock was peacefully sitting on Code Red, who had a weird glaze to his visor. "Grimlock?"

"STARSCREAM TOOK YOU. NOW STARSCREAM GONE. CHECK TELETRAAN, HE GET SOMETHING."

This was overwhelming. But she did as suggested. Her purple optics became lavender as she read what was before her. This needed to be downloaded, quickly.

"You are out of time," the figure below Grimlock announced. "I turned off the alarm and killed the elevators but they'll take the stairs once their primitive processors-OUCH!" A giant being deciding to wiggle on you out of spite hurts. "-You're done, get out of here."

"Grimlock, it's time for those cookies I promised," Lyra announced weakly. It was all going so FAST now. "Could you please get off of...Starscream...and let him unlock the elevators for us?"

"I do what? Haven't I done enough?" He was grumbling about it but did it anyway. Then he shot a hole at the window outdoors. "I'll tell them you went that-a-way." Lyra was hurrying over to him. "NOW WHAT!?"

She hugged him. For as long as she could before he shoved her into the elevator. "Thank you," she choked out.

"I'll send you an invoice. NOW GO!"

The doors slid shut as the noise of the guards came pounding through the hallway from the stairs.

 _Rodimus Prime HATED when a line formed outside of his office. Optimus had it worse, he'd been told. Four times. By four different people. Today._

 _They both came in confidently- Grimlock with a Costco-sized bag of Chips Ahoy! and a stranger, smiling slightly. She looked vaguely familiar, as most Autobots did. That came with the territory of being leader: everyone knowing you and you only knowing a percentage of the population and worried that you'd offend someone who expected to be your best friend. He put on the Friendly Face, like Jazz had taught him, and paired it with the Friendly Voice._

 _Politics suck._

 _"Grimlock! How can I help you?" he asked._

 _The Tyrannosaurus' mouth was full. Crunchcrunchcrunchcrunchcrunch. The other spoke out of turn for him._

 _"I apologize for the interference...my name is Lyra. I'm court docket case #000000457." She gave him a moment to look it up. Banishment for repeat offenses of treachery and un-Autobot conduct. "Before you call the guards-"_

 _"-Too late!" he interrupted, no longer looking Friendly. Arcee would be here in a second._

 _"NO! YOU ROD-EE-MOOSE PRIME LISTEN! SHE HAVE IMPORTANT THING!" Masticated human food rained down on his desk. GROSS. Rodimus pressed the Emergency button three more times. Arcee, Jazz, and Mirage burst in. Mirage did a double-take._

 _"Oasis!"_

 _She smiled the Friendly Smile. "Brother." That didn't sound Friendly. Her voice acting needed work. "Now that I have an audience..." she put up her arms, demonstrating a lack of weapons but a winking data CD. "I'd like to present our Prime with Decepticon prison transcript #DSHRT*NDJ. Grimlock?" She was in the process of being cuffed, so the Dinobot did the honors as she was hauled away._

 _It might be a virus. Grimlock, susceptible to bribery, stood there, mute yet accusatory. Well, whatever it was, he didn't want to deal with the next person in line (Warpath.) The minute he had the file open, he hit another button and demanded Arcee bring the prisoner back._

 _"WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?" he demanded._

 _"Hall of Records," she replied._

 _"HOW?"_

 _"ME GRIMLOCK KNOW! STARSCREAM'S GHOST GOT IT FOR HER!"_

 _This was too overwhelming. "I'm sorry I asked," he stated, shaking his head._

 _All of it was there: prisoner roster, home addresses, names, notes, even pictures. His entire sector. Where he'd come from, who his creators were, how he'd come to be, how they'd shut him offline to preserve him when they'd all been starving to death, even his original name, Hot Rod._

 _Now he knew where he'd come from. He sank down, stood back up, and walked over, wavering significantly before regaining his composure._

 _"I don't know how to thank you," he said, patting her on the shoulder and motioning an equally moved Arcee to free her._

 _"I do," she replied, voice and smile genuine._


	16. Chapter 16

Even with two Dinobots and four bags of Cool Ranch Doritos, Lyra was nervous to be back here.

Knock knock knock  
Knock-knock

The monitor came on, with that same face. "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SLAGGING ME."

She didn't even bother to smile. "I've come for Mercuria."

"WELL, SHE'S GONE. FRAG OFF!"

A mere gesture to her guards and the door became a doorway. She could hear Dauber and Waspinator shrieking.

It didn't take her long to condescendingly purr over their "stolen property." One energon dispenser, repossessed. Now for the worse area-

Clean as a whistle. Instead, the entire warehouse contained LEGITIMATE rental equipment. She was relieved and disappointed. "MERCURIA!"

"I told you, she's gone! Did you think I'd let her back in here after what SHE did?"

Lyra feared nothing. Her new job as a police officer digging up black market dealers was pretty nifty. Just ask the motor cycle gang she'd impounded this morning. The Dinos were for show, however. Most of the time she was underground or invisible.

"Where did she go."

He shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

Lyra nodded to her companions. "Make him care."

"ARGH! SHE'S AT ARKVANDER'S! DON'T TOUCH US!" He was cowering in a corner, trying to shield Waspinator. She called off her goons and gestured towards what used to be the front door, pausing from carrying the energon dispenser to smile politely.

"Thank you. Try to keep your nose clean."

Earth cop shows were awesome. Their source of sarcasm alone was priceless.

Arkvander's store was a bit emptier but the person working the counter was a sight for sore eyes. "I see you got that tarnish taken down a few notches," she greeted her.

Mercuria nodded. Not really smiling. "You again. What are you doing here?"

So her cover hadn't been blown yet. "I never got to thank you for helping me." Snarl was handed the energon dispenser. "I came to offer you this." It was a badge. "It comes with a full pardon and a place to crash outside of the borders. The downside is, you're my partner. The upside is, there's a chance for promotions."

Mercuria glared at her. "Are you KIDDING ME? STAY in this fetid sewer but be on the side of the oppressors and have everyone I know hate me? Gee, thanks!"

Lyra knew it had been a long shot. "Everyone already hates you!" That didn't come out right. "At least you get days off from it this way."

She shook her slightly dull head. "You're a terrible salesperson." Was the scowl lifting. "Do I get free oil changes?"

Lyra's shoulders sagged. "Half off."

"No deal!"

Well, she tried. She bade her good day and let her sidekicks out the door first. "By now you should've somehow realized what you're NOT to do," she berated herself.

They got about halfway out of shouting distance when the sound of a car coming up behind them and transforming beside them erupted.

"Half off is fine!" Mercuria announced, giving Lyra an awkward side hug. "Now where's my badge and when do I start?"

No time like the present.

THE END.

(RIP Dick Gautier)


End file.
